300 seconds
by Sparkle Fairy the Great
Summary: It's been years after Sam and Dean had gone on their adventures, and now a new threat arises. However, this story isn't really about them. It's mostly about an orphaned girl named Gwen, a hellhound named Orion, and guy called Gabe with a lollipop addiction. This is their story, a new chapter in the Supernatural universe. So, what does destiny have in store for them?


**It's an obsession, a horrible un-denying obsession that shall consume me! Yeah, **_**Supernatural**_**. That show is absolutely brilliant, and in the last week I have already gotten up to season 8. I won't spoil anything for those who are not completely up to date (why are you reading this fanfic though if you aren't?), but I will say one thing… WHY CASS? WHYYYyY! *wipes away a tear and indulges in some scrumptious cookies*. Whatever, he'll be back, you can't be in that show without dying and getting resurrected a couple of times, it's the Jesus effect. So without further a do, here is the first chapter of this crazy fanfic. :P**

Chapter 1: Texas

With a shovel in hand, she pushed another path on the snow blanketed driveway. Her joints ached slightly from the cold and strain of the physical labor, but it was all too familiar a feeling in this winter cursed climate. To her, the task was easy enough; thirty feet of driveway and a half an inch layer of snow, and all she needed was ten minutes. It had been about five since she had started and already more than ¾ of the black asphalt was shaved of white.

So why should she ask for that extra five minutes? Well the answer was simple, so simple in fact it was laughable to think that five minutes of solitude could change this girl's future immensely. No human being could imagine so much could happen in that short time span. In five minutes, exactly 300 seconds, a person could brush and floss their teeth. In 300 seconds a young woman could put on some makeup before her senior prom. A business man could catch the bus to his office building, and a grandmother could write a letter to her favorite grandchild. In 300 seconds a mother could even rock her baby to sleep. In 300 seconds people could be doing their ordinary daily routines that make their lives… well… ordinary.

In five minutes, or 300 seconds, Gwen didn't even notice the man with the black eyes come up to the front door.

"_Gooooooooood evening America after dark! Welcome back to the number one station for the spooky, creepy, and eerie! The only place where _you _can get the latest scoop on the things that go bump in the night! I'm your host Stacey, and tonight on our show we are going bats for vampires! _

_According to our experts, vampire activity has been up the wooha! Near Riverton, Missouri. These suckers have been leading their victims out of local bars, knocking them out and taking them to their hide out somewhere near route 20. So far there have been a total of 4 disappearances, all from men and woman between the ages of 25 and 30. A witness reports states a victim being hauled off into a black van. There are so far 3 suspected vampires, all two men and one woman. All three are said to have a tattoo on their arm in the shape of a snake wrapping around a skull. Yeesh! Talk about regrettable tattoos! _

_Now as you all know there are two things that can really pack a punch on twilight here: Dead man's blood, and the good ol' 'Off with their heads!' _

_Wait… what's that? My spidey senses are tingling! It looks like we got some Arachnes near Snyder in Texas! But fear not citizens! We have a solution to that as well! Our friendly neighborhood Spiderman here can go down with a simple beheading. Fire won't work and neither will bullets unfortunately, but guns and blow torches are a hassle. Just bring along your favorite axe and have a field day! _

_Hey hey! Fun fact of the day! Did you know Hellhounds can be stopped with Goofer Dust? Haha not Gopher Dust, Goo-fer! If you don't have any salt on hand to hold back Fido just use some of this Hoodoo magic to do the trick instead! Works like a charm!_

_We're gonna take a commercial break now folks, so hold tight and keep safe and we'll be right back!" _and with that the perky voice on the FM switches to the commercial break.

Gwen stares at the dashboard of her car as the commercial for Davies Magic Silver Bullets hums through the radio speakers. Her feet were kicked up and hanging out the window in the blazing 100 degree Texas weather –her claves were feeling the forewarnings of a sunburn –and a gas station slushy sat cozily between her thighs. She nonchalantly held a local newspaper in one hand while the other was busy searching recent news articles on the internet. Anything to do with _weird _was what she was looking for. So far the only thing that would require her services was the Arachnes reported near Snyder, but that was at least 3 hours away from where she was.

Gwen throws her head back in groan. She hated the heat. Her whole life she had been raised in a nice suburban town in New York State, just a few minutes away from Connecticut. The people there were nice enough. She had friends, nice neighbors, and a quaint house comfy enough for a family of three. Most people would consider her crazy for choosing her current lifestyle, but she couldn't complain. It wasn't like she chose to be a hunter.

Gwen closes her eyes and lets the heat of the midmorning sun warm her face. Thankfully her car wasn't black as to not attract too much heat. Instead she had a white 1964 Ford Mustang, one her few joys in life. Overall it was a damn good car, had seen its share of crap in life, not too spacey in the back though but it wasn't like Gwen was having any company, well either than her dog.

To be precise Orion wasn't a dog. He was a hound, a hell hound. Most people in the hunting business would probably agree that's impossible, but Orion was Gwen's friend and true companion. Just like demons, hellhounds can take a vessel; it's rare, but not impossible. For Orion his meat suit was the body of a Great Dane, 34 inches in height, 198 pounds, and easily filling all of the back seat of the Mustang.

Gwen and Orion had met a year back. Gwen was on a hunting trip, tracking down a crossroads demon when her client's dog was taken over by one of the hellhounds on his trail. It was a smart strategy; take over man's best friend so no one would suspect an attack, very unlike the usual hellhound attack pattern. However Orion wasn't just any hellhound. Like there were different levels of demons, hellhounds had some loose order of hierarchy as well. Orion was a special breed of killer, smart, cunning, deadly, but was unprepared for what Gwen had to offer. She was just as clever, trapping him in a devils trap when he was injured, but instead of finishing him off, she helped him heal. For a full two weeks she would come by, giving him food and water, chew toys, anything to make him comfortable while his vessel recovered.

Orion had never seen a chew toy in his life. The one Gwen gave the hound was a blue bunny rabbit with a squeaker in the stuffing. He found it highly amusing to attack and every time he would push it outside the pentagram, Gwen would put it back in for him. It was that small gesture that really filled up the black void inside his chest. One day, just a little over a week in Gwen's care, he had drawn his attention to the hunter holding out a treat to him. She didn't move, just stared him straight in his dark ebony eyes and held her hand slightly over the bounds of the sigil.

He went to bite her.

Just before he could though, she recoiled, only being left bloody scratches on the whites of her knuckles. Most people would stop right there and Orion was honestly ready for the final blow that would send him back to hell. But it never came. Instead Gwen left the room only to come back with a bandage on her right hand and a book in her left. She then sat down and simply read, sitting up against a wall. The next day she tried the same thing, and once again he tried to bite her fingers off. Day after day, at exactly a quarter to noon she would try and give him a treat, and each time he would attack. Then one afternoon, instead of bringing a bacon bits, she brought a knife. He only assumed she was mad, and really he couldn't blame her. She had done everything to be nice to him yet he rejected and attempted to hurt her each time.

He braced himself once more for the end; to be sent back to that horrible pit downstairs where there were no dog treats or bunny chew toys for Orion to munch on or play with. However, once again to his surprise, she hadn't gone and killed him. He watches the strange human use the knife for a different cause, and narrows his eyes as she uses the knife to carve a gap in the devils trap. He wasn't sure what to expect. Was this a trap? Or was this human truly stupid enough to let him go?

He places a single paw outside of the circle and watches her every move. He watches her chest rise and fall with every other heartbeat, and her fingers twitch as the seconds go by. He can feel her watching him too, waiting for him to make his next move, like a dangerous game of chess. Both were predators. Both weighing out their options and planning their next move.

Gwen breaks away from the staring match first, slowly making her way to sit against her usual spot on the wall. She never averts her gaze from the hellhound though, even as he slowly eases his way out of the devils trap.

The next thing he does completely catches both off guard. Instead of running or going on the attack like a good pet of the devil would do, Orion trots over to his worn and torn bunny, picks it up in his mouth, and goes to lay next to Gwen. Neither knowing what to do next, they simply stay there the rest of the day, enjoying each other's company.

Afterwards, the two head off in Gwen's Mustang, acting like they had always known each other, like they had been best friends since forever.

Gwen wipes away some drool beginning to drip onto her face. "Dude! Not cool get a napkin or something!" she squeals as she pushes the muzzle of her furry friend away, newspaper in hand.

"_Just cooling you off." _He inwardly grins, sending the telepathic message to her brain. It was one of the perks to being a hell spawn.

"Thanks, but I could do without the dog slobber." She grabs an old paper towel on the passenger seat and wipes of the rest of whatever drool was on her forehead, trying to put on her angry face to show her disapproval, but with Orion she could never stay mad. "So what do you think? Should we go after Spidey?" she asks, quirking an eyebrow toward the Great Dane.

"_Hmmm, it might be a nice change up to the usual ghosts and vengeful spirits. You sure you want to go all that way? Maybe I should drive?" _he nods toward the steering wheel, doing his best to smirk as his vessel would allow him.

"Oh sure, let me lend you a pair of opposable thumbs." She yawns, starting up the car. Orion nips at her shoulder in response to the sarcasm.

Three hours later and an Abba album gone through a million times (just to piss off the backseat passenger) the two partners in crime make their way to a _Budget Inn. _Along with the local motel, the town overall was kind of bleak. A couple houses lined the wide bare road, giving it that typical small southern town feel. The motel like the rest of the place was kind of run down, only two stories high and only a couple cars taking spaces in the parking lot.

Gwen goes and pays for the night, putting in an extra 50 just so Orion could bunk with her and not have to sleep in the car. As soon as the man at the desk puts them down for a room and hands them the key they hurry and get situated into room 6.

Just like so many other motel rooms they've had to camp out in, this one had the same musky old atmosphere that just screamed anonymity. It had the usual double bed, blanket and a comforter with a bedside nightstand. Toward the back was the usual single bathroom with, depending on the motel, a shower, bathtub, or both. Cable TV as usual, and a nice little table with two chairs for whatever other needs a person might have… as usual.

Call it a downside to being a hunter.

Gwen throws her duffle bag onto the bed closest the door and collapses. The sheets smelled like mildew and beer to her despair, something she'd have to take care of later if she wanted to sleep comfortably, and without feeling grossed out. Orion however, didn't seem to mind as he curled up on the other bed beside hers.

"_You wanna turn on the tube or should I let you sleep?" _Orion asks. He shifts his head just enough to make eye contact with Gwen.

"Sure." She grunts, picking herself up off the motel bed quality sheets. She turns on the TV and flips the channel to _Law and Order_, one of the only shows actually on this hour that her hellhound companion would watch.

"_It's a rerun." _He frowns.

"They're _all_ reruns." She frowns back, digging through her duffle bag for a jacket and a gun, just before walking out the door to go find the nearest soda machine.

After several minutes of walking and cursing, she finally finds a Pepsi machine that has a brand of cream soda in it. Being the cheat she was, she tries an old trick a fellow hunter of hers had performed when he himself was faced with a shortage of money. After hitting the "sweet spots" he had shown her, she goes to press the button for the mouthwatering nectar of the gods.

Unfortunately that same hunter also had some sort of good luck hoodoo on him, and Gwen ended up having to feed her money to the soda machine.

"Oh, tough luck kid." A chuckle resounds from behind her.

Instinct taking over, she whips out her gun and points it at the owner of the voice, cocking the trigger just in case she needed to blow something's brains out.

The man jumps in surprise as he holds his hands up in surrender.

"Hey kid calm down, don't want any blood spilt now do we?"

"Who are you? Why are you following me?" Gwen demands with her usual interrogative demeanor.

The blond haired man just smiles. Gwen at that time goes to note his scruffy face and wrinkled clothes, probably meaning he hasn't shaved or bathed in a while. If he was a thug, she'd just beat the crap out him before he'd get the chance to mug her.

The man takes a daring step forward, "Look you probably think I'm some homeless freak –."

"You think?" she confirms, her voice dripping deadly venom.

Scruffy just sighs and takes a step backwards. "I promise you I'm not. However I can tell you that we're in the same line of business." He gives her a triumphant smile as she begins to lower her gun. He was about to go on and approach her further, but is stopped when something cold and wet makes contact with his face.

"Okay, not a demon." Gwen sighs in relief, just before coming at him with a knife.

"Woah woah woah! Hold on just a sec, warn a person before you go on with the whole "human confirming ritual." He pulls out a knife of his own and puts a tiny slit on his forearm, proving him to be human. "See? No need to flip out hun. I'm just as human as you are."

She gives him a skeptical nod, before drenching him in another liquid.

"I'm NOT a Leviathan either." He shakily states, wiping the cleaning solution off before it getting into his eyes. "Is there ANYTHING ELSE you'd like to throw at me while I'm standing here?"

Gwen shakes her head before putting away all her bottles and weapons into the pockets of her jacket, causing the man to sigh in complete relief.

"Now I don't think I've introduced myself properly yet." A single corner of his mouth raised upwards in a slanted smile as he extended his hand. "The names Gabe." He sates, just before popping a sucker into his mouth with the other.

**Hehehe... Interesting? Got you excited? Well please review! Help feed those plot bunnies!**


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